‘Goodness me. What pigs people are to through rubbish in the hollowed out interconnecting heroes of yesterday. Your suggestion of standing hotels is a grand idea.’ – James Sullivan, Artist.
On my recent local wanders I’ve become interested by the sightings of public phone boxes, more often than not in a very poor state, usually covered and packed with rubbish, smashed and hanging on their hinges or all of the above.
Never in use and rarely even noticed, they feel like remnants of a previous time; metal and glass ghosts of the high street, once so handy for keeping in touch with and chasing people down, yet now almost entirely void of purpose, if not for the shelter they provide all sorts of combinations of trash sat inside them, swept in by the wind or in some cases, seemingly arranged by somebody that’s nowhere in sight.
I always wonder why the local authorities don’t remove them to replace with trees or simply make life easier for blind people, before concluding they’re subtle beacons tracking our every move, transmitting mind controlling ideas or more probable, raking in advertising revenue. Besides, where would drunk people piss?
Whether they should be reclaimed and repainted by the people and turned into one man libraries and standing hotels or pulled down entirely is for the public to rise up and decide. I’m just asking the question.
